The situation he'd ended up in wasn't one that was going to be fixed immediately. It didn't matter where he went, it would still be this reality and not the one he'd come from. No team, no contacts. Nothing. The least he could do was figure out how this place worked so he could stay alive long enough to get out of there. If someone was offering to provide some information, he was going to take it.
After talking to Martha, he'd turned on the TV, flipping through the channels for ESPN, or any sports channel that could provide a distraction while he waited. On the third round, nothing had caught his attention. Thankfully, the knock at the dooor came. He went to the door, glancing through the hole. Sliding off the chain and unlocking the bolt, he pulled the door open, avoiding making too much of a mess of the salt line he'd laid down earlier.
"You must be Martha," he stated, gaze going from her to the bottle and back again. "Come on in."